


The Case of the Mysterious Ghost

by Sexyfishtalk



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, M/M, just like heaven
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:52:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3812953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sexyfishtalk/pseuds/Sexyfishtalk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John Watson moves into his new flat, he doesn't plan to lead an exciting life, but when the ghost of a detective appears, he may have no choice</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Case of the Mysterious Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> So I promised myself I wouldn't write another movie fusion until I at least finished the Pirates one I have going but... anywho, enjoy!

House hunting had never been John's idea of a fun time. He and his sister searched the city for endless hours and still nothing they were shown suited John Watson's preferences. One was too drafty, the next didn't have enough windows. Some weren't big enough while others were too far away from the shops. His leg, you see, he couldn't walk long distances on it. Harry, his sister, had resigned herself to sharing her home forever with her younger brother when he turned his nose up once more to another perfectly acceptable flat. His excuses were getting worse and Harry was running out of patience. "Look, let's just go find a pub and call it a night." She sighed. John turned away from her and looked around the bustling street. He tuned out his well meaning sister when John's eyes focused on an advert posted on a nearby telephone post. It was advertising a one bedroom flat, fully furnished. The address was even close by.

"Let's try one more place." John replied and tapped the posting with his cane. From the annoyed sigh that came from his sister, John knew this was his only chance to prove he hadn't yet given up on finding his own home. It wasn't that John particularly wanted to go through the stresses of moving again, but his continuing existence as his sister's couch warmer did lose some of it's charm after a while.

"John, that flyer is ancient." His sister groaned. Harry hurried to catch up with John who had already set off down the street, cane tapping with every step. "There's no way it will still be on the market. Can't we just go home?" They rounded the corner and two minutes later they stood outside a set of flats, one with a 'For Rent' sign stuck up in the upper stairs window. John glanced at his sister who only rolled her eyes. "Oh go on then."

John tapped the large knocker beneath the 221b that hung on the black door of the flat. The door was answered by an elderly woman with sandy hair who greeted them with a friendly smile. John inclined his head with a smile of his own, while Harry hovered in the background. When John explained they were there about the flat, the landlady who introduced herself as Mrs Hudson was all too pleased to show them up.

The flat she brought them up to was filled with mismatched furniture, piles of aging papers and curiously, a skull. In the kitchen, a dusty chemistry setup sat untouched. Cluttered as it was, the flat held a cozy warmth. It felt right. "Well this could be very nice." John nodded. His sister appeared less than impressed with her surroundings, her eyes narrowed on the skull and she shuddered. "Very nice indeed," John settled down into one of the easy chairs that sat in front of an actual fireplace. "Just as soon as we move all this rubbish out." He added, waving his cane at the stacks of folders and papers.

"I do apologize." Mrs Hudson hummed. She set about the place, picking up anything out of place. It seemed to be a fruitless effort since everything there seemed out of place. "The last tenant was a bit of a clutter bug."

"What happened to him?" Harry asked. She had seated herself on the edge of a musty smelling couch as if afraid to touch anything. John couldn't entirely blame her. Some of the floor around the chemistry set looked dotted with different toxic chemicals and some spots didn't look stable enough to hold his weight. It also made her question all that more reasonable. Had he died in the flat? Did John really want to move into a home that was haunted by the soul of a mad scientist? 

Mrs Hudson sighed."I don't know." She lifted a dusty pile of folders off of the coffee table and sighed. "One day he just stopped coming home. Then, next thing you know, his brother shows up out of the blue and tells me to keep his things where they are but to look for a new tenant." John and Harry exchanged a glance but Mrs Hudson took no notice. "I hope it wasn't anything too terrible. He was such a sweet boy, if a bit peculiar." She tutted. "Well anyhow, you two get settled and then we'll about filling in some paperwork?" Her smile widened further as she took off out of the flat, leaving the siblings with little choice but to wait. John looked around once more and his mind was made up. Mad scientist ghost or not. He had found his home. 

By the end of the day, John had leased out the flat and at the end of the weekend he was fully moved in. He chose the bedroom on the main floor, there was a second one upstairs but Mrs Hudson had offered him a reduced rate for only taking the one. He might see about finding a flatmate later on, or maybe just turn it into a study. It wasn't hard to find a routing in his new home. John's life had become a predictable one long before he had moved out of his sister's home. After being invalided back from the war, John didn't go out as much as he used to, and he didn't have as many guests beyond his sister. John's few attempts at finding a job had failed miserably. He was either overqualified or didn't appear confident enough, and so he was still living off his army pension for the time being. As the days went by, John began to sequester himself further and further from the rest of the world, only venturing out when it was absolutely necessary. He told his sister he was fine whenever she asked then quickly turned the conversation on to one of her own problems. Two months passed in this manner, the ex-soldier's life continued without anything unexpected ever happening and he never made any real impact on the world. He couldn't say he was happy, John hadn't been properly happy in a long time, but he was content in his new residence. Then one night when John Watson's world changed forever.

*

It was close to three in the morning, he had been living in 221b for nearly three months when the first sighting occurred. John had been lying awake in his bed as he expected to do until morning. He had been glad the house had come furnished since he knew he couldn't afford anything beyond rent and food, but he did wonder why the closets were still filled with the fine shirts and jackets of the previous renter. John had found it peculiar that Mrs Hudson had been instructed not to move anything, but surely whoever the renter was needed his clothes. The flyer hadn't said anything about the flat being a sublet. If that was what it turned out to be, John might just be motivated to raise a stink about it. He really hated moving.

The thoughts of his future and the mystery surrounding his new home did nothing to settle his mind. John turned on his side, frowning into the darkness. Insomnia had become his most common issue since he had returned to London. The nights when John did manage to get more than an hours sleep were always riddled with nightmares that would then keep him awake for days. John was just contemplating how much he really wanted some late night tea when a creak of the floorboards came from the living room. John was instantly on the alert. He laid silently. It was an old house, after all, old houses did creak. Another creak echoed into his room along with the distinct sound of a person talking. There was no denying it. Someone was definitely in his home. 

John fumbled for the unlicensed firearm he kept hidden beneath his bedside table and jumped from the bed. He slipped into the hall as quietly as possible,  but there was no sign of an intruder. The creaking continued to echo from the flat's main area. "Who's there?" John called out, his voice immediately dropped back into the commanding tone of a captain when he sensed a thrill of danger wash over him. "I'm armed." He added, just in case whoever was out there needed another incentive to show themselves or get out before he caught them.

The creaking stopped then and man's low, baritone chuckle rumbled from the living room. "If you're going to break into someone's house, you should at least have the decency to know whose home it is." He replied back to John, his voice deeper than his laugh. John clicked on the hall light to reveal a man with curly dark hair, pale skin, and incredibly blue eyes gliding into the hall. His were hands pressed elegantly together under his chin. He wore a long belstaff coat that framed him well. He was possibly the most stunning person John had ever seen.

Once John finished collecting his jaw off the ground, his features hardened. Because no matter how attractive the man was, he was still trespassing. "I do know whose house this is," John replied. He kept his gun held firmly in his hand and visible, but he made no move to threaten the man just yet, "This is my home." The man's eyebrow rose. It was ridiculous how everything he did looked so practiced and fancy. "So leave before I call the police." John sincerely hoped he didn't have to go through with that promise, having one late night visitor was bad enough. 

"Oh please do," The intruder's face was painted with amusement. He wasn't afraid, John realized. Not even when his eyes flicked down to the gun still kept at John's side. In fact, he looked even more sure of himself than he had before. "Any one of them can vouch that this is my house and it's you who is the very confused trespasser. As a matter of fact when you call make sure you ask for Detective Inspector L-" The man froze and this time, it was John's turn to raise his eyebrow. The man's calm countenance contorted into one of confusion. "Um... DI... his name is... Detective... Detective..." John awkwardly shifted on the spot. He was about to offer to take the confused man to a hospital when the intruder through up a frustrated hand and waved him off. "Oh forget it, I'll go grab my mobile. It'll be faster that way, I have him on speed dial."

The intruder turned away from John and disappeared around the corner of the hall. For a minute, John stayed where he was, but the flat had fallen eerily silent. When the man didn't come back, he followed him out into the main area only to find it empty. "Hello?" John called. There was no where for the man to have gone except out. John supposed it was possible that he had really believed the flat to be his until John had turned on the light, but it seemed far-fetched given the state of his unique furniture. John ran a tired hand through his hair and sighed. Whatever had happened, it was still late and John was tired. He moved towards the door to discover it was still locked. He turned in confusion, there was no where for the man to be hiding, but... For added measure that night, John pushed his couch in front of the door. Had the man had a key? Was he the previous tenant? But no, Mrs Hudson had said she'd been told to look for new renters. Whoever all this furniture belonged to, he must have known someone else was living there. All this was doing was giving John a headache. Once he was sure the door was secured, he took some pain medication, returned to bed, and shut his eyes. He would deal with it in the morning. 


End file.
